Donald A. Wollheim (ed) (11 page)

She pondered over firing early in the hope
that she would give the alarm. But almost certainly that would precipitate the
Greys'
attack, and she wanted to trick them into leaving it
until the last possible moment.

Suddenly something crashed between her legs,
throwing her headlong. She wasn't hurt, but when she got up she limped. They
were playing into her hands. Warren had done this, she thought. Twice he had
escaped from the
Greys
. And perhaps he hadn't known
as much as she did now.

They left her alone for quite a while. She
saw nothing of them for so long that she almost began to hope that they had
tired and left her alone. But she kept her slow pace. They might be trying to
trick her into showing she was stronger than she pretended.

When she least expected it she was bowled
over from behind and felt the touch of warm, moist skin. She gave herself up
to terror and thought,
This
is
it.
But they only rolled
her about gently, played with her, and tripped her again every time she rose.
There seemed to be about a dozen of them. She was afraid to try to shoot them.
Her guns were secure if she left them where they were, but if she drew one they
might knock it from her hand.

At last they were gone. They had torn her
suit, but only the pantaloon part. She was puzzled, then realized why. Without
oxygen she would die in eight hours, and would be beyond recovery in six. They
knew that, and they wanted her to live longer.

She cut her suit away at the waist, below her
belt. It left her legs freer. Her thin slacks clung to her legs so that by now
they almost seemed a part of her. She wondered what they would do if she threw
away the rest of the suit. Would they put it back on her forcibly?

She knew she must have done nearly twenty
miles, and wished Warren had overestimated the distance. He had said twenty to
thirty miles, and she had been unable to prevent herself hoping it was the
smaller limit. But there was no sign of
Cefor
yet.

Two of them would have had a much better
chance, she thought angrily. They could have watched all around them and kept
the
Greys
more on the defensive. As it was, the
Greys
were so silent that a score of them could be walking
only a few yards behind her. She resisted the temptation to look until she was
set to do it quickly, ready to take a shot at anything she saw.

When she had swung round she wished she
hadn't.
At least a score of dark shapes faded rapidly into
the fog.
Now she would always know they were there behind her, within
sight if she turned her head. It was enough to drive her mad.

The
Greys
could see
only about thirty or forty yards—even less than she could. If the mist would
only lift, she knew she could see them long before they could see her. But the
mist never lifted. It was the atmosphere of the planet. There was a lot of
oxygen in it, but there were other things in it too.

Suddenly she saw a faint glow ahead. She
forced herself to be cold as ice. The bright lights of the domed city would
carry a long way, even through the fog. It might be anything up to a mile
distant yet, though probably not more than half a mile. This was the time
Warren had warned her about. The time when she began to think she was through.
She forced herself to stumble slowly on. She nursed a faint hope that as the
Greys
probably couldn't actually see the city yet, though
they would know where it was, they might leave her alone for a while yet.

She went staggering on, thinking over and
over again,
Not
yetl
Not
yetl
as her body rebelled and tried to run toward
the light.

Then she saw the
Greys
closing in. Instantly she was running, firing her gun as she went. She didn't
care where the bullets went. But she realized in rending disappointment that
the mist blanketed sound as well as sight, and she was still too far away for
the sound to be heard in
Cefor
.

But she was holding her lead! She went wild
with exultation and threw her empty gun away. Even its weight held her back,
and as she raced toward the fight she told herself she had won. The
Greys
had underestimated her, as she had been inviting them
to do for hours.

Suddenly she heard a scream behind her.
A woman's scream.
It was so unexpected that she checked her
stride involuntarily. She took it up again at once. The scream was another of
the
Greys'
tricks.

Then it came again, and there were words. It was no Grey she heard.
Behind her, a human girl was screaming as she was dragged down. Again Virginia
couldn't help checking her stride. But then, furious with herself, she renewed
her efforts. It must be Yvonne
Yonge
who was
screaming. Somehow, for some reason, the little glamour girl had set out after
her. That was too bad. Virginia's duty to herself, to the rest of them, even to
Yvonne, was to reach
Cefor
. She burst forward as if
she had merely been trotting
gendy
before.

But the
Greys
were
at her heels. She never knew whether she would have escaped if Yvonne's scream
hadn't checked her, or whether the
Greys
would have
caught her anyway. Either way, they had her.

She fought as she had never
known she could fight. As she had never known anyone could fight. If there had
only been ten of them, even twenty, she might have broken free again and again,
until at last she reached
Cefor
. But there were
scores of them, perhaps hundreds. When she broke from one group she was in the
middle of another.

She stopped fighting at last, thinking she had no strength left. But
when they began to drag her away from the lights of
Cefor
she found a reserve of strength that she hadn't known about. It made no
difference.

She didn't see Yvonne, if it had been Yvonne.
She was dragged for what seemed miles. The
Greys
were
very gentle with her. They took all she was able to give them rather than
scratch her skin. Now they folded her up at the foot of a tree, holding her so
that she went down easily, naturally. Then they tied vines about her neck.

For a moment Virginia had hoped, half feared
that they were going to throttle her. But instead they wound the rope about her
throat, holding her plastic suit tight against her skin. Then they cut the suit
neady
below the rope, fastened the plastic edge
firmly against her skin with an adhesive binding, and removed the rope.

Obviously they wanted her to go on breathing
through the filter in her hood, but to have the rest of her accessible. They
reached over her and she flinched, expecting them to strip her, but they only
tied her hands and ankles and patted her all over, making sure she had no
concealed weapons.

Then they left her. In a moment there wasn't
a Grey in sight.

She was helpless even to damage herself. She
could roll on her side and rub her plastic hood on the ground in an effort to
tear it and let the poisonous air reach her lungs—but that would take hours,
and she didn't think she would be left alone that long.

"Don't
say I didn't warn you," said Warren.

Her head jerked up, but she couldn't see him.
Then, fantastically, his head appeared from the tree beside her. He was
standing within it.

"Warren
Blackwelll
" she gasped. "You
herel
"

"I've never been more than a hundred
yards away since you left the ship," he said. "Sorry, Virg
inia
,
it was the only way it could be done. I've got the trick of thinking like a
Grey. But it would never fool the
Greys
for hours at
a time. They would sense the human thoughts—unless there was another human
about, thinking like a human."

He grinned down at her. "I told you they
couldn't read thoughts. That wasn't quite right. They can read emotions-like
fear. And they would know if you expected to get through. They'd have wondered
what you were counting on. Then they'd have found me."

"But
. . ."

"They rely on this sense of theirs—just
as dogs rely on scent rather than sight. They weren't likely to see me, and
they didn't. And if that
litde
fool Glamour hadn't
interfered we'd both have got through. I meant to get just ahead of you. Then,
when the
Greys
finally decided to take you, I'd have
helped you to cut and shoot your way through.

"But Glamour spoiled it. God knows what she was trying to do. I
told them all to stay where they were, that we'd get through. Maybe she thought
it was easy and wanted some of the glory. Anyway, I didn't know about her until
a few minutes ago. She was behind us both. And there were so many
Greys
between you and her, I had to hide."

"Well, don't waste time," said Virginia. "Cut me loose
and well—

"No can do. They'd pick you up again
long before we got to
Cefor
—whether we looked for
Glamour or left her here. And then they'd know about me. No, there's only one
way. I'll have to wait until
there's
less of them
between here and
Cefor
and then try to get through
myself. I'll be back."

"Can
you get through alone?"

"I think so. I'm safe so long as I'm
near you. By the time they sense me it'll be too late. But listen, Virginia. If
they sense us coming back—men from
Cefor
and
me—they'll drag you and Glamour away and that'll be the end of you. You must
keep them here."

"I?" She nodded at her bonds.
"What do you expect me to do?"

"That's up to you." He paused; went
on tensely. "They'll start torturing you soon. That will occupy them.
They'll be too excited to know we're coming. Don't be noble. Let them start on
that little fool. Don't try to escape. They might not bring you back here."

He grinned again. "I think I can start
now. Good luck-again."

He faded away into the mist. Virginia stared after him, though she could
see nothing.
If he had only told her. . . .
But she
realized he probably told the truth when he said he hadn't dared. Knowing he
was about, she would have been sure she would get through safely—though she had
hated him, she had never doubted his competence—and then the
Greys
would have caught them both.

There was sound again in the silence of the
mist. They were bringing in Yvonne—Glamour, as Warren called her. She was
shouting, kicking, clawing. And the
Greys
weren't
handling her as gently as they had handled Virginia. Perhaps they had some
respect for coinage, Virginia thought. She had never been in a blue funk as
Yvonne was. Maybe it was because of that that they had been gentle with her.

And perhaps—she couldn't help thinking of
it—perhaps they would work on Yvonne first.

It seemed like a dream—not a nightmare yet,
for the
Greys
looked ludicrous rather than dangerous.
There were hundreds of them. They filled the clearing; though Yvonne was only
twenty yards away, she might have been a million miles for all that was visible
of her. Virginia was lifted to her feet by what seemed like a hundred hot, wet
Greys
, and as they led her, still bound, to where she had
last seen Yvonne the whole thing seemed more a practical joke than
any thing
else.

Then abruptly it stopped being a practical
joke.

They had cut Yvonne's suit like hers, leaving
nothing but the hood over her head, fastened at the neck. Yvonne was wearing a
blouse and shorts and looked like the heroine of a jungle picture. When she saw
Virginia she tried to get up to go to her.

But the
Greys
stopped that by pinning her to
the ground with two knives through her hands. Her shriek went through
Virginia's head like a needle.

Four of the
Greys
held Virginia so that she had to watch what was going on. She shut her eyes,
but when Yvonne screamed again they had to come open.

If the
Greys
had
shouted and danced and beat drums it would have been less horrible. But the
only sounds were those forced from Yvonne. There were plenty of those.

To keep her sanity Virginia concentrated
desperately on Warren, making his way toward
Cefor
.
He needed time. Suddenly, after a long spell of relaxation, she flung herself
forward, tore free and pitched beside Yvonne, who was still, she realized, only
mildly hurt beside what was to come.